


September 10th, Texas

by Julesin



Series: Runaways, or That Feel When Multiverse Theory is Confirmed Canon [14]
Category: Everyman HYBRID, MLAndersen0, Marble Hornets, Stan Frederick, Tribe Twelve
Genre: Gen, Habit is an asshole, Mentions of the Council (they get more important later I promise), Panic Attacks, cryptic bullshit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-23
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2019-02-18 18:55:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13106436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Julesin/pseuds/Julesin
Summary: No one expected things to go south again.Then again, with how their luck had been for most of their lives, maybe they should have.





	September 10th, Texas

Things were going so well. 

Since the incident with the Dogs, they'd continued to travel, continued to evade any further attack. Michael's wounds were starting to heal, Stan had become more trusted, and Sarah, Seth and Amy had become the group’s personal bodyguards, their intimidation level high enough even without their weapons to keep anyone away. The only thing that made them all uneasy was Damien's continued silence, and most of the time they could keep that out of their heads. 

No one expected things to go south again. 

Then again, with how their luck had been for most of their lives, maybe they should have. 

Michael was awoken early that morning, earlier than he should have been, by Evan sitting bolt upright in bed beside him. The man's breath was short, his chest heaving and his eyes wild, and he immediately tore the blankets off, clambering off the end of the bed and backing up to the wall. He glanced rapidly around the room, then clutched his head with both hands, letting out a low groan of pain. 

Vincent sat up quickly as well, immediately standing and moving towards Evan with his hands up in a placating gesture. "Ev? Ev, talk to me. What's going on?"

"...in my head." Evan's muttering was quiet, ground out between his clenched teeth. "He's coming back, he's in my head-" Suddenly, he reached out, grabbing Vincent's arm desperately for balance as his whole body seemed to give out. "He's coming back, I can feel him! I can feel him creeping into my mind, his claws are in my brain, Vinnie-"

Vincent pulled Evan in, wrapping the shaking man in his arms. "Evan, I know, it's okay. It's okay, he's not here."

Michael slid out of bed as Evan pushed Vincent away abruptly, stumbling backwards and almost falling. "No, you don't get it! I can feel him, he's coming!" He was getting hysterical now, voice rising in pitch as he continued.

Michael took a step towards him, voice calm. "Evan, breathe. He can't hurt you right now, I promise. It's just panic, you probably had a dream."

But Evan wouldn't listen, simply shook his head vigorously and continued walking backwards towards the room door, even as the other one, to the next room, opened, revealing a very concerned and tired looking Brian. "No, no, no- I have to leave. I can't let him hurt you again. I can't let him hurt any of you, I can't let him-" Evan grabbed his shoes and coat, and before Michael or Vinnie could stop him, he had them on and was out the door. 

There was silence for a moment, and Vinnie rubbed his face wearily. Brian glanced between the two of them and the door as Sarah peered over his shoulder. "What the fuck just happened?"

Vincent bent down, snatching his shoes off the floor. "Evan thinks Habit is coming back. I gotta go get him before-"

Vince's voice cut out as Patrick's filled Michael's ears. _He is coming back._

"What?" Michael's question silenced everyone else in the room, curious looks morphing into knowledge and concern as his eyes remained far away. 

_I can feel him, too. Habit is coming back._

Michael's heart pounded in his ears. "Why now? What changed?"

There was no response, but Michael could feel Patrick's anxiety, and there was an underlying tremor in his psyche that worried him beyond belief. 

Vincent pulled him out of it with fingertips on his arm. "Michael? What is it?"

Shaking his head to push down worry, Michael met his eyes hesitantly. "Habit...Evan's right. Patrick's stability is shaking."

Vincent's eyes widened. "What?" he asked, voice quiet and trembling. 

Michael grabbed his own shoes, slipping them on and tying the laces rapidly. "I'll go get him."

As he headed for the door, Vincent stumbled over a refusal. "No, Michael, let me, I-"

But Michael was already halfway in the hall. "Vince, just..." He put a hand gently on the man's chest, lightly pressing him back, and took a deep breath. "Stay here."

Then he headed for the elevator. 

Patrick's voice rang through his head. _I can feel Habit's aura. Take a left when you leave the building. Evan's probably going to go find the most abandoned place he can to hole up in._

Michael nodded, hurrying out the front doors when he hit the bottom floor. It was still early in the morning, and he hadn’t had time for a coat, but his fear and adrenaline warmed him enough that the biting September mist didn’t register, even through his thin sweater. His feet pounded the sidewalk, someone gave him an odd look and he completely ignored it, mind torn between finding Evan and looking for danger from all angles.

_Cross the street,_ then take another left. Patrick’s voice was cold and clinical, but there was an underlying shakiness that betrayed his struggle to maintain composure. Michael swallowed hard, waiting for the light to change, and blinked the beginnings of tears from his eyes when it took longer than expected. What if he wasn’t there when it happened? What if Evan needed him and he wasn’t there? What if Habit took control and decided to hurt Evan in some way and Michael couldn’t- _Light’s green._

He hurried across, going the way Patrick indicated. They seemed to be heading into an older section of town, buildings looking more and more run down, and there were definitely less people. Fortunately. Fewer witnesses, fewer possible victims.

Patrick finally stopped him in front of an old, broken down warehouse that looked like it hadn’t been in use for decades. _Inside. A ways in. I’ll tell you when were close._ Michael took a deep breath, then hurried towards the doors, shouldering his way inside the dark building.

It was huge and mostly empty, shelves and empty boxes shoved into the space haphazardly. There was no sound save Michael’s own heavy breathing and the slow settling of the building, creaks in far off corners that diverted his attention momentarily and made him shiver. The tapping of his shoes on the cement floor was magnified, and he searched the stacks and rows of empty containers for any sign of Evan. 

Patrick’s direction to a particular corner was unnecessary; Michael could hear the labored breathing from aisles away. Evan was curled in on himself, arms tight around his knees. He was shaking. Before Michael could speak to alert Evan to his presence, the other man did instead, miserably muttering, “Why are you here?”

“B-because...” Michael scrambled for a real reason for him to follow, but all he could come up with was, “Because I care about you.”

Evan simply let out a dejected sigh. “You shouldn’t have come.” Then he lifted his head, chest shaking with laughter as his arms unwound. “But it’s adorable that you did. I’m sure Evan would be thrilled.”

Michael took a step back, wanting to run but holding his ground. Evan’s body moved so crookedly, so awkwardly as he stood, deep violet eyes shining from under lowered lids. Habit bared his teeth in a nasty grin.

“So nice of you to join us, Michael. Good to finally meet you.”

He couldn’t breathe. Panic was rising in his throat and all he wanted was to hide, hide wherever he possibly could to get away from the aura emanating out of the creature before him. His mind filled with flies, buzzing and scratching at his insides like desperate prisoners, and his stomach twisted nauseously as his hands began to shake. His skin itched. He could feel it worming its way inside his pores, trying to control him, pull him out—

Patrick screamed, startling Michael out of the haze Habit’s presence caused. He forced himself to look into the creature’s eyes, those deep swirls dying his vision violet, and attempted to get words out through his raw throat.

“You are not welcome here.”

Habit let out a legitimate cackle, his jaw opening wider than it should have been able to. He waved a hand nonchalantly through the air. “I know, I know. I won’t be around long anyway, I just wanted to fuck with ya. And, you know…” He stepped closer, hands clasped behind his back, and leaned in, doing the best cat’s mouth impression Michael had seen on any human being ever. “To see my oldest lover.”

Michael could feel Patrick’s disgust rolling through his mind in waves. “He doesn’t want to talk to you.”

Habit rolled his eyes. “Why don’t you let him talk for himself?”

Michael hesitated, but could already feel Patrick reaching for him, so he complied, sinking into his subconscious. Patrick flew by him, and he almost reached out, but there was something there, some feeling coming from the other man that made him decide against it.

Patrick’s voice was stone when he growled, “Get the fuck out of him.”

Habit’s face showed mild surprise upon hearing this. “Aww, did you not miss me?” He leaned closer, causing Patrick to do the opposite. “I missed you.”

“I very much doubt that.”

The violet-eyed menace chuckled poisonously. “You’d be surprised. It’s very lonely out there, with just the stick-in-the-mud and those other assholes for company. Even the occasional visits from the Council are bittersweet, since they hate us all as much as the next guy.”

Patrick stopped leaning away, curiosity seeming to get the better of him. “What are you talking about?”

Habit’s smile grew. “Hmm. Maybe you should ask someone better qualified than me. Someone like the Pawn? They seem to like withholding information from you, apparently.”

Michael curled in on himself, discomfort coursing through the body. More of it flowed around him, filling up the inside of the body’s mind, and he was almost worried he would drown in it. He pushed it away as best he could.

“What?” Patrick ground out.

“Oh, come now. You can’t expect me to explain everything right away, do you? That’s just no fun.” Sharp teeth gleamed. “I can’t give away the plot now.” 

Michael felt Patrick’s face scrunch up in confusion.

“Look, as much as I’d love to tell you everything, I only have so much time before my absence is noticed. I did have a reason for coming here, you know.” Habit’s smile seemed to soften, though Michael knew logically that was impossible. “I wanted to see you. When you got your new vessel,” he gestured to the body, “and vanished for like, 20 years…” He looked down, almost like he was avoiding Patrick’s gaze. “I was lonely. I missed you. Though I know you don’t believe that.” 

Patrick opened his mouth, but nothing came out. _Why?_ floated through their subconscious, resonating in Michael’s ears. 

“Anyway,” Habit growled, straightening his posture. “I should probably give Ev-y here his body back, shouldn’t I?” He chuckled, then his eyes rolled back and he collapsed.

Patrick dove forward to catch Evan’s body as it sped towards the floor. The eyes flickered open, and Evan gasped, immediately beginning to shake. “What? What happened? What did he do?!”

Patrick pulled him close, arms around the other man’s shoulders. “It’s okay, it’s okay. Evan, it’s okay. He didn’t do anything.”

Evan clung to him, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, and let his shaking slowly subside. Evan’s eyes remained dry, though it was obvious he wanted to cry with how his breathing shivered. “Why didn’t- why did he take over if-” 

“I don’t know, but he’s gone now. He just talked. We talked.” Patrick huffed out a laugh. “Well, he talked at me.”

Evan’s eyes slid closed, and he took a deep breath to calm himself. “Pawn,” he muttered.

“What?”

Evan rubbed the sides of his head vigorously. “I’m getting little bits and pieces from the conversation… He said something about a pawn. I think he was talking about a person, but…”

Patrick swallowed thickly, then shrugged. Evan met his eyes, looking as unsure as he and Michael felt.

“…Damien?”

Patrick hesitated, then shrugged again. It was the only answer he had. 

Evan slowly stood up, allowing Patrick to help him as his legs threatened to give out. He hissed in pain as they started for the door, but when Patrick glanced at him worriedly he just muttered, “Legs hurt. Ran a lot.”

That was understandable. The journey here had taken quite a while, even with how fast worry had made Michael’s legs go.

“You know he wasn’t lying, right?”

Patrick started, looking down at Evan’s complicated expression. “What?”

“I could feel it, when he was talking about how he missed you. He was telling the truth. Especially the second time.”

Patrick swallowed. Michael could feel the uncertainty, the confusion, and he pushed back with a feeling akin to ‘worry about it later.’ That seemed to do the trick, as Patrick continued moving, but it was still there, that confusion and worry in the back of the mind. Michael could hear it breathing.

They made the slow journey back to the hotel, Evan slowly regaining his bearings. They stumbled through the lobby around 10 am, four hours after they first left, and had to push through a few groups of people milling around. Evan tensed up beside Patrick, but he said nothing, only pulled the smaller man towards him protectively. 

The group’s floor wasn’t too far up, though the elevator ride was quiet and stressful, so it felt like an eternity. Evan took a deep breath as they stepped out, and Patrick slid a comforting hand into his, squeezing gently. Evan briefly made eye contact and nodded, but still seemed uncomfortable. 

Patrick knocked twice when they reached the room the Hornets boys were in, sharp knocks that resonated loudly throughout the empty hallway. There were a few moments of silence, and then the door creaked open, revealing both the person standing on the other side and the many people further in.

Vincent’s eyes widened, and he looked between Evan and Patrick multiple times before wrapping his arms around the former’s shoulders, pulling him into an embrace. “I’m so glad you’re okay,” he murmured. “You were gone so long.”

Evan started, then accepted the hug, melting into it and grasping at Vince’s shirt. He closed his eyes tight, burying his face in the taller man’s shoulder.

Noah approached the door as well, giving Patrick a hesitantly curious look. Patrick shook his head, _I’ll explain in a minute,_ and Noah smiled back, understanding. He smiled wider at Evan over Vinnie’s shoulder, comforting and hopeful. 

“Don’t do that again,” Vinnie stressed, pulling back and looking Evan in the eyes. “We’re not as vulnerable as we once were. It’s more than just the two of us now, we can handle him. Okay?” Evan seemed reluctant, but Vinnie bent down and pressed their foreheads together, repeating, “Okay?”

When he got a nod, he looked back over at Patrick, who smiled ruefully. “We should go inside, I’ll explain there.”

Noah brushed a hand gently against Evan’s arm as they walked in, and the shorter man stopped, looking up. Noah gave what seemed to be an attempt at a genuine smile, but it was enough, as Evan finally smiled back, even if it was small.

Vinnie and Noah settled back into their seats, while Patrick and Evan took spots on one of the beds. Jessica reached over, setting a hand on Evan’s in a comforting gesture. 

“Habit did show up,” Patrick began, rubbing the back of his neck. “He didn’t do anything except talk, but he did show up.”

“What he said wasn’t exactly comforting though,” Evan murmured.

Patrick glanced over, but Evan seemed reluctant to say more, so he took over. “Habit knows a lot more than we do, which has been the case for a long time. But he did let some things slip. He mentioned… He mentioned the tall man.”

“‘The stick-in-the-mud and those other assholes,’” Evan quoted.

“He said something about a Council, and that they hated him. And he mentioned a pawn, someone who was keeping something from us.”

“Vague and confusing was always his forte,” Vince muttered, rubbing his face. 

“What else?” Stan inquired, leaning forward.

Patrick hesitated. _Let me take over,_ Michael called, and Patrick nodded wearily. “Give me a moment.”

A few seconds later, Michael reopened the bodies eyes, glanced around, and gave a small smile. “Sorry, Patrick needed a break.”

Evan took his hand carefully, trying to comfort, which was ironic given how much he needed. 

“The rest of what Habit said was mostly aimed at Patrick, to be honest. Things about the past and…well, it’s not really important. But his demeanor was strange, to say the least. Calmer, almost reluctant at times."

“There was one other thing Habit said, though,” Evan muttered, rifling a hand through his hair. “It was something about how his absence would be noticed, and-“

“Yeah, and it should have been noticed earlier than it fucking was.”

Half the room leapt to their feet, the other half simply tensing in their seats. Sarah’s bat was well over her head before Tim held out a hand to pause all the violence before it started.

“Damien?”

They smiled, somewhat amused, though a bit taken aback as well. “Man, sometimes I forget how jumpy you guys are. Sorry I startled you.”

Tim’s eyes widened, and he looked back at the rest of the group in fear, though Michael couldn’t think of a reason why. Damien sighed.

“Tim, they’re fine.”

“But you-“

“I know what I said, I lied. I’ve lied about a lot.” Michael watched the light reflect of their left arm, the one made entirely of metal, confusion flooding through him. This was Damien? Just admitting they lied? 

“Then why-?”

“Because I can’t keep up an illusion like this with more than one person seeing me.” As they said it, they’re image flickered, like a glitch on an old computer monitor. “In fact, it’ll probably run out in the next ten minutes. Which means I have even less time than I would have otherwise to talk to you.” Damien gave Evan a guilty look. “I’m sorry about Habit, by the way. By the time we realized there was anything wrong he was already here.”

Evan nodded, still looking unsure.

“Who’s ‘we'?” Noah challenged, anger showing plainly on his face. He hadn’t yet forgiven Damien for the dog attack, which was understandable.

“The Council and I. I’m sure Habit mentioned them.” Upon Evan’s nod, they sighed. “The Council is made up of five beings, including me, who aren’t really from any particular world. We don’t really have names, but titles, like the Pawn. That’s me, in case you were wondering. The others haven’t liked what I’m doing here, including you guys in this mess, for a long time, but it is the only way, and they know it.” Upon saying this, their image flickered again, a bit more this time.

“What are you talking about? The only way to do what?” Noah’s eyes narrowed. “I’m getting real tired of this cryptic bullshit.”

Damien glared back. “Why do you have to be so aggressive all the time?”

“It’s a defense mechanism.”

They opened their mouth to retort, then closed it again, shaking their head and glitching more. “Point is, we’re doing our best to keep you guys safe. And it’s harder than you think. That’s why my visits are so infrequent. There are things I have to do on my side to keep you alive.” 

Michael watched Noah’s hands curl into fists, but he didn’t lash out further. “I think we deserve to know a lot more than you’re telling us,” Tim challenged calmly.

After a moment of silence, Damien looked down. “Yes. You do. And trust me, I’m tired of keeping things from you.” Their image flickered, splitting in two before melding again. “But there are some things I can’t tell you. I would, but I don’t have time. My illusion will run out soon, and then I have to give you something.”

“Give us what?”

“You’ll see, have some patience.” Damien sighed, rubbing their eyes vigorously as their image warped again. “One thing I can tell you is that there is a lot more at stake here than just you. There are literally trillions of lives you will be saving by following through on this, but I don’t want to guilt trip you—you do have a choice. You can choose to say no. Just understand that if you do, this will never end.”

Tim narrowed his eyes. “What do you-“

At that moment, Damien’s image shattered completely, then reformed. Everyone gaped, watching them look down at their new body. “Well, shit.”

They were taller now, easily seven feet, with four arms. Their skin swirled a dark blue, reminding Michael almost of a galaxy. Eyes popped up everywhere across their skin, and a second mouth was clearly visible on their throat. Their second half simply faded, like a gradient, into darkness.

“This wasn’t really how I wanted to break the news.”

Silence fell after their statement, and they watched the entire room, at least one eye on everyone. There was no movement for several long moments, before Tim finally muttered, “What the fuck?”

Damien held up two hands, the other two reaching into the air and vanishing briefly up to the wrists. “We don’t have time for this.” When their hands reappeared, one held a plastic bag, the other a huge wad of dollar bills and a small piece of paper. They held the latter out to Tim, who understandably hesitated. “Tim, that’s almost three thousand dollars, take it.”

He snatched it from their hand, pocketing the money and unfolding the paper. Damien set down the plastic bag, and something inside clattered. Michael had a feeling it was more medication for them. 

“That-” Damien continued, gesturing to the paper in Tim’s hand, “-is the address of a hotel about a day’s drive away from here. There is someone staying there, I’ve provided his room number, that I want you to find and encourage to join you. Some of you may be aware of him, though I think Noah is the only one who’s actually met him, and only very briefly. His name is Lee, and he runs the WhisperedFaith channel.”

Noah’s eyes widened, then narrowed in confusion. “I met him?” he asked, forgetting his shock for a moment. 

“As I said, briefly. It’s unlikely you remember it.”

Noah seemed to still be confused, but he didn’t question further.

“I have to go soon, there are some things I have to take care of. In the meantime, go to Lee. Try to get him to join. I’ve already talked to him, but I’m sure it will still take some convincing. He has information about someone else I want to join you as well, a woman named Story Parker. She has experience, but she also recently found something extremely important, something that will explain a lot if you can figure out what it means.” Their image was slowly fading from view, with no hint of reforming. They were actually leaving this time. “Good luck. And don’t be stupid again. I can admit that that was mostly my fault, but please. I can only keep you alive if you follow the rules.”

They vanished.

Tim rubbed his face wearily, then reached for the plastic bag. He wordlessly pulled out pill bottles, reading the handmade labels and handing them out. Michael gladly took the four given to him, making sure they were correct before placing them in his sweater’s pockets. Evan seemed surprised when one was given to him, but his face darkened when he read the label, and when Michael looked over his shoulder he saw why. Depression medication. Evan hadn’t asked for it, but it wasn’t a huge surprise.

Pills distributed, no more words were exchanged. People slowly left for their rooms, uncomfortable silences following them all. Michael set his medication inside his bag, then shuffled over to the single bed, sitting as Evan and Vinnie packed. He had never had much on him, so there wasn’t much to pack. 

Evan finished putting his things away and joined him on the bed. He leaned his head against Michael’s shoulder, letting out a low breath, and his weight sunk in, holding Michael down in an almost comforting way.

Michael leaned in as well and closed his eyes.

When he opened them again, Vincent was standing by the bags, having finished his own packing, watching them with a subdued look on his face and his hands in his pockets. It had been months since California, but Michael could tell they still ached sometimes—it was written across Vinnie’s face in quiet moments. He had a feeling it wasn’t necessarily a physical pain either.

They would have to leave soon. Noon was coming. Danger was always just around the corner.

Domesticity had never seemed so far away.

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, more plot! Yeah  
> I hate writing Habit :')


End file.
